


The Hat

by Ebhenah



Series: Klancemas 2018 [12]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas, Future Klance Family Fic, Hunk is a good friend, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Laith, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Minor Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Post Season 7 AU, klance, klancemas, monthlykance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 06:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebhenah/pseuds/Ebhenah
Summary: Written for the Klancemas event by MonthlyKlance on tumblrKlancemas 2018"The Hat"Dec 19: Mistletoe(A future Klance-Family Fic.. just, set before the family part. This is the earliest I’ve set a story in this timeline- here’s a little early days of Klance)





	The Hat

“I am not sure I understand the purpose of all this… tin-sell?” Romelle said cheerfully from her perch on the ladder where she was helping Hunk decorate the auditorium at the Garrison for the annual Holiday Dance. “Does it have some symbolic meaning?”

“Um… maybe? I mean, yeah, it probably did when people first started using it, but now it is mostly just there to sparkle and look pretty.”

“I see! Well, it certainly is quite lovely. It makes the… basket?... look… ummm… like something not used for a sporting event,” she smiled brightly, pleased that she was starting to understand some of the odd customs that surrounded mid-winter here on Earth. It wasn’t her first ‘holiday season’ on earth, but it was definitely the first time she had the time and energy to pay much attention to the local customs.

Many of them were quite odd. Like the one where you are expected to kill a tree to bring it into your home and cover it in shiny plastic and glass and metal… and sometimes the corn that is popped, on a string… but only for a few weeks. Or the one where you pulled someone’s name out of a hat and you had to buy them a gift, but not tell them you were buying it, even though everyone knew they were getting a gift. Or the making and exchanging of a cake made with dehydrated foods that were rehydrated in liquid, and that no one seemed to want to eat except Shiro and Coran. Or the hanging of very oddly and impractically shaped foot coverings overnight and waking to them being filled with candy, for some reason?

Also, there seemed to be NO consensus, whatsoever, about when specific traditions happened, and everyone seemed to do something totally different. Hunk’s family had a birthday cake for the son of God that was born human, but also was the SAME God? Lance’s family celebrated at night, but everyone else seemed to talk about the morning being the exciting part. Even the Holts fought among themselves about when to do which thing.

It was just… a very complicated time. Complicated, and busy… but beautiful.

“All right,” Hunk said, brushing the palms of his big hands together in the way that he did when he was baking. “Garlands, lights, tinsel, and streamers are all in place. Now we just need to get the tree set up over by the sound booth, and we should be done… with plenty of time to spare for everyone to go get all dressed up for tonight.”

“This room looks completely different than when we arrived,” Romelle gushed.

“Yup. That’s the magic of Christmas,” Hunk agreed,

Right. Somehow there was magic involved as well, although she was fairly certain humans did not possess Alchemy abilities.

“Wowwwwwwww,” Lance slowly turned in a circle as he crossed the basketball court… that was also a dancefloor, tipping his head back to look at all the decorations. “You guys are, like, workshop-caliber elves, for sure! It looks great Hunk!”

“Thanks, man,” Hunk said with a grin, “Romelle was an awesome help. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

“Are you excited for your first Christmas?” Lance asked her, setting down the box he’d been carrying.

“Oh, yes! I just hope I don’t forget anything important!”

“Alright, I can help with that! Checklist time!” He held up his hands like he was getting ready to count things out, “do you… have your outfit for tonight’s dance all picked out?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “it has been chosen, cleaned and is ready to be worn.”

“Have you decided on how you are wearing your hair?” He was definitely counting things out on his fingers.

“Yes, I asked advice from several humans whose appearance I admire.”

“Ooooh, nice tactic!” He did that very light punch of knuckles to knuckles that the Paladins seemed to favor against her hand, “do you have a date? Or are you going on your own?”

“Allura and I are attending together,” she answered with a nod.

“Waiiiiit… Like, TOGETHER together? Or just regular together?”

“Ummmm…” she really didn’t know how to answer that.

“He wants to know if it’s a date, or if you and Allura are going as friends,” Hunk laughed.

“Either is okay!” Lance cut in quickly, “the checklist just changes a bit depending on the answer.”

“Hmm… we didn’t clarify that,” she mused, tapping her chin. “Right. I must go speak to the Princess. I will be back shortly, Hunk!”

Lance watched as the blonde Altean bounded out of the room. “Is she… just going to go ASK Allura if tonight was supposed to be a date?”

“Yeah,” Hunk nodded, picking up the box, “she’s like that. Bold. Speaks her mind. I like that about her.”

“I do, too… it’s just… most people would be all nervous and awkward. Good for her, though. Hey! Look what I found in my old junk!” He pulled a novelty snapback out of his back pocket and plunked it on his head. A cartoonish spring coiled up from the hat, dangling a sprig of mistletoe. “Tonight’s gonna be awesome! Just like old times!”

“Old times, huh?” Hunk levelled a look at Lance. “Do you REMEMBER how that hat went over last time?”

“Last time,” Lance pointed out confidently, “I wasn’t a Paladin of Voltron, and hero of an intergalactic war. Tonight is going to be AWESOME.”

“If you say so, bud,” Hunk replied, sounding anything but convinced, “just… last time the mistletoe hat was going to be awesome, it… ummm… wasn’t. Half the people ignored you, and the other half glared… and I think a couple of people slapped you, didn’t they?”

“That was different,” Lance scoffed, “I was just a cadet back then. Now I’m the Red Paladin. You’ll see… girls will be LINING up to kiss Loverboy Lance under the mistletoe!”

“Girls will be lining up,” Hunk repeated, shaking his head at Lance.

“What?”

“I just don’t want to see you get your hopes up and it not pan out, bud,” Hunk’s voice was gentle, “you’ve been through a-”

“Ah-bip-bip-bip-bip,” Lance cut him off, talking with his hands, “none of that. Tonight’s going to be AWESOME!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was NOT awesome.

Lance was not having a good time. Allura and Romelle were indeed on a date, and he was happy for them, really. Like, REALLY. He knew how much it meant to Allura to have someone other than Coran that understood her culture and background and shared her heritage. And Romelle… she was great. Really great. Beautiful and brave and determined and funny and kind and smart… really great. She was like, an awesome mix of all Lance’s favorite people.

It was just… Seeing them together- it reminded him of what he thought he’d wanted for so long. Of the time he’d wasted pinning his hopes on a romantic connection with someone who would only ever be a friend. Of what he’d missed out on because of a stubborn, misplaced hope. Of how he had a very bad habit of doing that and getting hurt from it… and couldn’t seem to learn how to NOT do that.

It wasn’t just Allura and Romelle, though. It was jarring to be back in the Garrison Auditorium after having gone through so much. It was so familiar, but it seemed… like a bad fit now. He felt too old to be here, at the Holiday Dance- even though there were plenty of people here who were much older than him. But, his classmates and friends had gained years on him due to the weird time stuff that he didn’t fully understand. He just didn’t belong here anymore.

He didn’t know most of the popular music, or any of the latest pop-culture references or in-jokes. The people he’d known on Earth didn’t understand half of his jokes or stories. He’d recount some adventure to a group of admirers (because, Voltron had fans on Earth, just like they did when they were doing the Voltron Show), and inevitably he would make some reference that went right over their heads and conversation would peter out. But, how do you describe WHY Yalmor calling is funny, or how bad the swamps on Nessipitimia smell, or how important a cow can become to you in space, to someone who has never left Earth’s orbit and have them GET it?

He’d made a great joke about Slav and Sven that would have had Pidge and Hunk in tears. The story he told about how he’d gotten away from a pissed off Kwirgunfex by climbing a tree and boosting from branch to branch would have impressed Keith or Shiro. His impression of the way the Ambassador from Leymminchek kept screwing up Lance’s name would have earned commiseration and chuckles and praise for his patience from Coran and Allura. But, tonight, when he’d told the stories, made the jokes, did the impressions, all he got was blank faces, or feigned understanding from people who felt like he was spewing gibberish. It was worse than when he’d first arrived from Cuba and would sometimes forget to speak in English when he got excited, but he still knew that look- the frozen smile, the darting eyes, the stiff posture that screamed ‘I have no idea what is going on, get me away from this weirdo’. He’d travelled the known universe, been to an alternate reality, and spent time on the astral plane, but he’d never had such a jarring case of culture shock as attending his old school’s Holiday Dance had triggered.

And, on top of all that- he’d been sadly, sadly wrong about the mistletoe hat. Lots of people thought it was funny. He’d gotten tons of playful ribbing from old classmates who thought it was a great ‘hey, remember when I wore this to that dance that one time? Hahahaha- kids, amiright?” nod. Which, honestly, was better than some of the alternatives. By ten, he’d stuffed the hat into his back pocket again and taken up people watching from a spot on the wall near the equipment room. Around eleven he’d realized that his friends weren’t going to notice his absence. They never really did anymore. It had been that way… for a while, now… since, before Lotor. He’d stayed there, leaning against the wall, until almost midnight.

He’d been just about to slip out of the dance before the exit got crowded with kids needing to obey curfew when Keith had walked past him, opened the door to the equipment room and motioned for him to follow with a jerk of his head. They’d slipped from one darkened room to the next with ease gained on far too many stealth missions.

“Keith?” he’d whispered, unsure of what was going on, “is everything okay?”

Keith crowded him back against the wall, “mistletoe?”

“Mistletoe HAT,” Lance countered trying to act normal. He felt… anything but normal. His heart stuttered in his chest. His mouth went dry. His breath hitched.

“So…” Keith smirked, and it DID THINGS to Lance, “did it work?”

“Hmmm?” How the heck was Keith always so damn WARM??

He laughed, softly… low in his chest, “the hat, Lance. Did the hat work?”

“Oh! Oh… hmmm…” he flushed, shaking his head, “not so much.”

“In that case…” Keith’s hands settled on his waist and he got hit with a rush of memory. Those slender fingers. That mouth. Those damn purple eyes. Lance’s eyes screwed shut in an attempt to staunch the vivid images that were flooding him.

Quiznak.

“Maybe…“ Keith pressed closer. Taller than he used to be. Broader, too. The fingers that slid along his skin, just above the waistband of his jeans had calluses that hadn’t been there before. Bigger. Cooler. More grizzled.

“You should…” He felt a shift and then Keith was tugging the hat into place on his head.

“Try again…” And Keith’s lips were on his and his blood was on fire and every heated, frantic memory he’d tried so hard to ignore ever since Keith had left AGAIN, flared to life in crystal clarity.

It burned away all the reasons he’d come up with to keep his distance. To stay on guard. To keep things professional.

Platonic.

‘Normal’.

It burned away all the confusion. The hurt. The rejection and frustration and regret.

It always did.

Keith touched him, like this… just ONCE and everything was ash on the wind except...

Keith’s hands in his hair.

Keith’s taste on his tongue.

Keith’s chest pinning him to the wall.

Keith’s voice in his ear.

Keith’s name on his lips.

Keith…

Keith… Keith…

It was after two am when it occurred to him to even think about the time, sprawled on a gymnastics mat, surrounded by nets and balls and sports gear, naked and sated and starting to feel the beginnings of the inevitable crash. Because he denied it, but he knew. He’d known for ages. He knew he was in love with Keith… and that Keith… was ‘just not a relationship kinda guy’.

“Thought we were done with this,” he said after a while. “You’ve pretty much avoided me since we got back to Earth.”

“We’ve been busy… and there are a million eyes on us,” Keith replied, rolling onto his side and watching Lance’s face. “You wanna be done with this?”

“That’s not a fair question,” he grumbled, “we both know you don’t want to get stuck with me.”

“Do we?”

He hated the way those two words stopped him in his tracks… because, yes. They did. They stopped him dead, and they DID know. That had been a direct quote. Keith’s reason for voting for Lance to go free from the game show.

Besides, even before that, Keith was like… smoke. It worked its way into the very fabric of you and lingered… and lingered… and lingered until all you could smell was smoke… lingered until you didn’t even notice it anymore, until it was gone… and then all you noticed was the ABSENCE.

Like smoke, dancing on the edge of reality, seeming so, so real and present and mesmerizing until you tried to touch it, pull it close, hold it, rely on it… and were left with nothing but the smell of it seeping into you.

“Don’t we?”

“Didn’t really think the guy in the mistletoe hat was shopping for a relationship.”

“Keith.” He sounded tired. He WAS tired.

“Lance.” He rested his hand on Lance’s hip. “It was just me, my mother, and a wolf for TWO years. I’m… adjusting.” He sighed, “I’m trying to adjust.”

“Alright, I can see how that might take some time,” he did his best to keep his voice level, quiet, “but you aren’t on a space whale anymore. Time is moving at the same rate for all of us… and I’m not stuck on a space castle with the same five other people day in and day out…”

“You’re done waiting,” he sighed again.

“I’m done waiting.”

“Okay. I get it.” His eyes drifted shut for a moment. “Spring. If we aren’t being pulled in a million directions at once by spring. April. By April. Alright?”

“You aren’t being super clear right now, Keith.”

He dragged in a breath and let it out in a huff. “I missed you. A lot. On the whale. More than the others.” His hand trailed over Lance’s chest and he loved and hated the way he trembled from such a simple touch. “I don’t want to get used to this. I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to drive you away. You think I don’t notice, but I do. I do notice. I just… don’t know how to get from where I was to where I need to be for this to work.”

Lance’s heart stopped. Just, flat out stopped. He couldn’t possibly be hearing this right. “You… WANT… this… to work?”

His head dropped, hair falling over his face, hiding it from view. “Yeah…”

“Keith, what does ‘this working’ look like to you?”

“I need to figure out how to be a relationship guy.”

“No more random hook-ups?”

“No more random hook-ups. No more sneaking around. No more… saying the opposite of what I want to…”

“Sooo… April?”

“Yeah,” he lifted his head, those huge purple eyes locking on him, “I know I don’t deserve it, but… can you… not wait, but… just… don’t write me off until April. PLEASE, Lance? I’m really trying here. I swear I am.”

“I know you are, Keith. I can see that.”

“Okay,” he relaxed a little, “good. I’m sorry about what I said… to explain my vote. It wasn’t true. I just wanted you to get to be with your family again.”

He slid his fingers into Keith’s hair and pulled him in for a soft kiss. “Okay. April it is.”

Because, he denied it, but he knew. He knew he was in love with Keith, and that wasn’t ever going to change.

And April wasn’t far off.

Spring wasn’t too far away.

And if Keith was trying to figure out how to be a relationship guy, Lance knew, in his bones, that he’d succeed…

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read the fic "Tumbleweed" in this series, you might notice that in that story, it is mentioned that Keith and Lance started officially dating in April. So, if you are bummed about how this fic ends, be aware that ALL the stories in my Klancemas series are sequels to this kinda-bummer-but-not-really story.


End file.
